Wichita eagle., 1887-08-12
JACKSON'S VICTORY.
AN INCIDENT OF THE BATTLE OF
NEW ORLEANS.

H.
Panic Stricken Fugitives-"No Food
for Cowards "-Bread and Meat for
Runaways.
Att o'clock the battle began, and the roar
of the artillery. with the discharges of mus
kerry. was almost as distinctly heard as if in
our immediate neighborhood. There was not
the slightest noise in the apparently dead
city, 1t held its breath in awful suspense
There was not human being to be seen NOV
ing In the streets We, the two boys and the
ladies of the household petrified into absolute
silence by the apprehensions OF the moment,
stood on the balcony until $50, when the fir
ing gradually ceased But still we continued
to remain on the same spot; for what was to
happenl Were our defenders retreating, pur-
sued by the enemy? These were hours OF
anxiety never to be forgotten. About IL
o'clock the oppressive silence in the city was
broken by the furiously rapid gallop OF
horseman, shouting as loud as he could: VIC
toryl victory" He turned from Charities
street into Dumaine and from Dumaine into
Royal, still shouting Victory" The voice
had become hoarse. and yet no human voice
that ever afterward heard was fraught with
more sweet music. That night we went 10
bed with thankful hearts The two boys soon
slept soundly, as boys sleep, with that bllssful
unconcern which appertains to their age.
But I doubt if our kind hostess and her
daughters closed their eyes, for they had hus-
bands, brothers, sons on the battle field, and
they did not know at what cost to them the
victory had been achieved.
In the morning of the preceding day the
famous battle of the Sth was fought on the
plains of Chalmette, four miles below the city.
In bee line the distance must have been
very short between the field of action and the
Bore plantation, six miles above New Or
leans by the windings of the river, for the
furious cannonading and the discharge of
musketry were prodigiously distinct The
Ladies of the family, pale with the natural
emotions of fear produced by the dangers of
the situation, were grouped in the broad gal
lery in front of the house. No man was visi-
BILE, for the only one who had remained at
home ION account of his age had when the
battle began assembled with slow but firm
steps a flight of stairs which led to the top OF
the portico. At every volley of artillery o.
musketry flung myself on the floor, exclain-
ing: "Ten Englishmen killed." "Twenty
Englishmen fiat ON the ground" and so on
/ continued rejoicing in the fancied destruc-
ton of our invaders notwithstanding the re-
monstrances of my poor mother, in whose
alarm l very little participated. The battle
had not yet ended when my grandfather Bore
came down from his post of observation with
the same measured step and the same self
possession with which he had assembled and
said TO his daughters who anxiously inferno
gated his looks: Dismiss your fears, the
Americans are victorious"
"But, father, how do you know il! inquired
my mother.
''You forget, my dear child" replied NJ. de
Bore, with calm smile, "that l have some
military experience My practiced ear has
not been deceived, am sure The American
guns have silenced the English guns. The
enemy is defeated"
These words had hardly been spoken when,
in the long avenue OF pecan trees that led to
the river, there appeared troop of about a
hundred men rushing toward the house
1.-THE English here come the English" was
the simultaneous cry of the women. NJ. de
Bore stretched himself up to his full height,
shaded his eyes with his hand and, after
having looked steadily at the advancing
crowd, said, contemptuously:
''These men the English! bah!'
They came rapidly to the piazza. about six
feet high, on which we stood, and along
which ran a wooden balustrade. NJ. de Bore
did not understand one word of the language
spoken by these unexpected visitors, whose
ragamuffin appearance was no recommended
ton. But if they were bandits, 1t was COM
Portable to see that they all were unarmed.
"Who are they, and what do they wants"
inquired Mr.. de Bore, surveying them evil
IDENTIFY with no friendly eye. He was in
formed by one of his family that they were
fugitives who reported that the Americans
had been completely routed, that they them
selves were a portion of the defeated, and
that they begged for food. The blood ran to
the cheeks of the old soldier, his eyes flashed,
and he shouted in French to the men, You
liel The Americans are victorious You
have run away; you are towards. Never
shall it be said that l gave hospitable well
come to dastardly fugitives from the battle
field. Hence, all of you, or l will call my
negroes to drive you away" His words were
not comprehended, but his indignant wrath
was visible, and his pantomime was express
sive. One of the beggarly crew seemed to
apprehend his meaning, for he took off his
hat and pointed with his index finger to a hole
WHICH lOObei dS IL ny q Ddii llc ilO
doubt intended to intimate that he had faced
danger, and that he was not as cowardly as
supposed In making this exhibition he had
approached close to the piazza and held his
hat aloft The old gentleman retreated few
steps; then rushing back to the balustrade Of
the piazza, on which he leaned forward, and,
looking down upon the suppliant below,
shouted: "In thy hat! in thy hat! striking
his breast violently" there is where the ball
should have been received, and not through
thy hat, when probably thy back was turned
to the enemy No! no food for towards.
There is food in the British camp; go and get
it."
He was superb at that moment. and turn
| ing his back upon the pitifui looking postu.
lantS, be kept up pacing the piazza like a
chafed lion in a cage. My mother followed
him few feet behind, as he walked to and
fro with hurried step, and thus expostulated
all the while:
"Father, they look so miserable
mo! no food for towards. l have said
| itn
@They seem to be so jaded and hungry"
moi say no.
Father, they are so wet and shivering
| with cold"
"Nol no food for fugitives from the field OF
honor"
But, father" continued my mother, in a
! piteous tone, they may not have fed, after
| all Perhaps they only retreated
Grandfather. wheeling round with a smile
on his lips, and with the usual expression
/ of benevolence on his face, said: Daughter
| l am inflexible. No food shall give to thos.
wretches. But l am going away, and il
my absence you may deal as you please with
| those heroes of retreat tavec ces heros d.
| la retraitel. True to his word. be dis
appeared, and was not seen for the remainder
of the day.
Meanwhile the little boy, who had growr
| up to be the octogenarian who writes thess